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He doesn’t move.
“You have no right to come in here uninvited. Run along; I’m sure Amanda or one of your other women is eager to be the center of your attention.”
Tension. Lots of tension.
He moves toward me, and I move quickly away. I’m not willing to fall into his game, as much as my body needs it and screams for it.
He swears and then, not looking at me, walks away in a rage.
I’m left alone in the room. My heart is racing. I don’t know what Eric wants. What I do know is that when I’m alone with him, I’m not in charge of my own body.
The night I get back from the convention in Munich, I decide I need to reclaim control of my life. I need to forget about Eric once and for all and find another job. I need to be myself again because, if things continue in this way, I don’t know what will become of me.
When I get to the office the next day, I talk to Miguel. He doesn’t understand why I want to leave. He tries to convince me to stay, but he senses that what was going on between the big boss and me isn’t settled. He walks with me to Gerardo’s office, and, once there, I arrange my resignation.
When I leave the office that afternoon, I grin. It’s the first day of the rest of my life.
44
It’s seven o’clock in the morning, and I’m still in bed when my phone rings. I look at the screen and don’t recognize the number. I pick up.
“What have you done?”
“What?” I ask, still dozy, not understanding a word.
“Why did you resign, Judith?”
Eric!
Gerardo must have told him, and he’s livid.
“For God’s sake, baby, you need the job! What are you trying to do? Where are you going to work? You want to be a server again?”
Stunned by these questions, and especially by his calling me “baby,” I hiss, “I’m not your baby; never call me that again in your life.”
“Jude ...”
“Forget I exist.”
I hang up.
Eric calls again. I hang up.
I finally turn off my cell, and, before he can call my home number, I unplug the phone. Angry, I turn over and try to go back to sleep.
Of course I can’t, so I get up, get dressed, and go out. I don’t want to be home. I call Nacho and go over to his workshop. For hours, I watch him draw tattoos while we talk. When it’s closing time, we call some friends and go out on the town. I need to celebrate the fact that I no longer work for Müller.
When I get home, it’s three o’clock in the morning, and I’m terribly drunk. I go straight to bed.
At ten o’clock the next morning, someone knocks on my door. With a gloomy look on my face, I get up to open it. It’s a courier with a precious bouquet of long-stemmed red roses. I know whom they’re from, and I try to refuse them, but the courier is hesitant. Finally, I accept them, but they go straight into the trash. Eventually the busybody in me looks for the little note that came with them, and my heart speeds up when I read it.
Like I told you a long time ago, I always have you on my mind.
I love you, baby.
Eric Zimmerman
Incredulous, I reread the note.